Closed Teatime by the Boathouse PV • V. Caird

Tuesday, February 11th. It is the day before all the Hogwarts students intending to participate in the Valentine's event will embark on their journey to Beauxbatons, the brain of this said event. It is kind of expected, of course, since Beauxbatons is located in France. Aurelia believes that everyone can agree with her that France is such a romantic country. It is also established that the young badger inherently despised Valentine's Day; however, travelling to an entirely different wizarding school other than Hogwarts is such a luxurious opportunity she could not just pass on. After perceiving the prospect that she'd spend a week in Beauxbatons, Aurelia checked out a lot of books regarding the said school and studied it feverishly.

So much had happened since the beginning of February. She wholeheartedly anticipated the incoming mundanity this month would provide for her just like January had been, as the past month had been bleak; uneventful even. She did not expect it to be that disastrous. Mysterious potions had appeared in the Hufflepuff Common Room, which she guessed was smuggled by someone amongst them as no one could enter the Hufflepuff Common Room with the right rhythm of the supposed password. Not only that, the majority of her house had drunk it, some of them more than she could count with her fingers. Now, Aurelia perceived her house as majorly sensible, a house that isn't foolish. She did not perceive them all to be reckless; now she wondered if the Hat is just really an old, senile sorting tool and should retire.

Aurelia felt like she's losing her darn mind over the recent events. Multiple students have been in a catatonic state; some hadn't woken up still and required them to stay in the Hospital Wing. She did not know if someone in Hufflepuff like her did not drink any at all, as she somehow never came across such a phial. She was busy reading The Philosophy of the Mundane after all these past few days, making her check out multiple books in the Legal Section of the Hogwarts Library, like The Muggle-Magic Conundrum: Interactions & Incidents and The Philosophy of Ignorance in Muggle Minds. Such mind-boggling reads; she wished she could talk about it to someone. However, she couldn't focus in these academic endeavours at all, as she was plagued by the fact that Mamori Anezaki and Clark Baird, the people she only knew who were currently in a vegetative state, are still somehow unhealed.

Aurelia Valentine decided right then that she should unwind and clear her mind, for her soul was on the verge of succumbing to extreme distress and restlessness, in fear of the prospect of someone intending to harm her fellow badgers, and soon, other students too. The fact that someone is willing to consume an unlabelled potion with suspicious and promising effects without so much as thinking about it had been a surprising factor too, for that matter. It was, indeed, a disheartening week for the Hufflepuff House that it had been so constricting. Aurelia needs to get out from there, or else she'll have a massive breakdown. It was like there had been a greyish overcast over the Hufflepuffs too; everything is not exactly the same, and she was subconsciously aware of that.

The young Hufflepuff witch chose the Boathouse as her unwinding spot instead. It was a long, steep and stony path, her winter boots almost gliding down from the melting snow that decorated over it. It was somewhat sunny, the sunlight softly streaming down and almost visible to which object it graces on, and she was almost convinced it was tangible. How beautiful, she thought, her deep brown eyes scouring the breathtaking view. The small Boathouse is just down the snowy path, but in order to reach it, one should hop down on oddly shaped rocks. It was somewhat silly and hilarious to her, and so she laughed for unknown reasons. She perhaps is already losing her mind. It's mid-afternoon; the sun blessed the Scottish Highlands with its light, which is rare; the danger is near; the Boathouse is down the path, and in between lay oddly shaped rocks and boulders. Who wouldn't laugh in such hilarity?

Aurelia Valentine is so tired of constantly thinking.

The young badger stopped in front of the uneven rocks, which led to the small boathouse. She always smiled so haughtily, an automatic expression, as though she was up to prove something. Not today though; her facial features are smoothed out as if she doesn't frequently worry, and she wore a rather delicate smile on her otherwise pretty face. Slinging her enchanted leather satchel more securely over her shoulder, she retrieved her black walnut wand from the pocket of her flared jeans before flicking it. “Bullarum Immortalem,” and there it was, a steady stream of golden tint of bubbles. It is such an easy charm; the golden bubbles surrounded her immediately like fluttering butterflies; the tip of her wand kept producing them like it was weaving the bubbles instead. It is so much fun!

Aurelia laughed heartily, the sound echoing so much in this part of Hogwarts. Some golden bubbles stick to her wiry and untamed long curls. Containing her laughter, she stuck her foot forward before hopping on the oddly shaped rocks like a frog. “Hop... Hop... Hop…! Hop... Hop... Hop... Hop…! HOP! HOP!” She let out a huff when she reached the wooden platform of the boathouse. She was about to enter when she realised that she hopped nine times, an odd number. Her heart skipped a beat. That can't be; it has to be even. She slowly turned to the steep rocks behind her, her forehead creased and her lips pursed. She was snapped out of her thoughts—especially when she was contemplating if she should climb the rocks and start all over again—when a golden bubble popped right by her nose. The young Hufflepuff chuckled once again, turning to her black walnut wand as it seemed like it did not stop streaming gold-tinted bubbles.

Let loose, Aurelia. As it did not matter if she used magic outside of class, or if she spent her life sticking to the rules, or how the Boathouse is somehow off-limits, or if she's adequately clever because today, she is meant to let loose and unwind. It is a form of survival tactic or anxiety will dominate her entire being. She twirled; it doesn't matter if she did it right, before entering the Boathouse.

Numerous small boats are tied up above her and are floating, and if disturbed, might fall down to someone who is standing below. A few small boats are also tied near the docks, also floating but above lake water. A portrait of a man is currently busy writing and scribbling on his parchment, briefly lifting his bespectacled gaze towards Aurelia, who, from an outside perspective, might notice that her cheeks are flush, her smile welcoming and accommodating, her deep brown eyes staring curiously, and the long curls that cascade behind her back slightly swaying as she tilts her little head in inquisition. Golden bubbles surrounded her too, leaving tracks where she came from. The man quirked an eyebrow before going back to his scribbling, and the young badger did not attempt to disturb him from his task as she skipped towards the dock of the Boathouse.

Letting out a sigh, her eyes scanned the beautiful view. The sun is currently setting; the waters of the lake are perfectly undisturbed, reflecting the assorted colours the sunset provides. Orange, yellow, and pink, somehow obscured by greyish clouds. Aurelia sat on the wooden dock, her winter boots barely reaching the lake waters. She laid her enchanted leather satchel beside her before watching the golden bubbles reflecting the view in front of her. If anyone were to notice these bubbles leaving tracks, they would be led towards the disheartened and sombre Aurelia Valentine.